


When We Were Young

by dametokillfor



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, ColdAtom Week 2016, Humour, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“The gas has affected the area of the brain controlling their memories. Essentially they have lost all memory of their lives past the age of 16.” The Professor explains, “Our teammates believe they’re 16 years old.”</i><br/><br/>---x</p><p>To the surprise of nobody, teenage Len was a shit. To the surprise of nobody, teenage Ray was a dork. To the surprise of everybody, they may have more emotional maturity than their adult counterparts.</p><p>For ColdAtom week day two, high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Were Young

**Author's Note:**

> So, _technically_ this isn't a high school fic, however I figure as the boys are high school age for a good chunk of it, it could pass for my high school AU.
> 
> This also features unrequited Mick/Len, but I assure you that is completely angst free. 
> 
> Despite the title being from one of Adele's most heartbreaking songs, this entire thing is just cracky nonsense, and one of the most fun things I've written.

“It’s fascinating,” Ray is looking over the bomb sat in front of him and Len, the countdown ticking down faster than Snart is really comfortable with. There’s gas swirling round in the glass container, bright green, and dangerous looking. 

“There are two minutes left on the countdown, Raymond, is now the right time to be fascinated?” Snart spins round, fires the cold gun at the lackey who has inexplicably got past Mick and Sara. The man falls to the floor with a shriek. 

Snart turns back to Ray, “Can you defuse it?”

“I can try.” 

Ray is usually so confident, to the point of being annoying. Right now, he sounds nervous, unsure. Len wants to comfort him in the face of almost certain death, but they’re going to survive this.

Ray’s overconfident but he’s also that good. Len doesn’t want the nerd to get the wrong idea about him.

(The idea that he cares about all of these idiots more than he’s letting on, and that he’s definitely had more than one inappropriate romantic thought about Ray. Totally the wrong idea.) 

He settles for resting a hand on Ray’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“I’m not dying tonight, and neither are you. Figure it out.”

The following minute is the longest minute of Snart’s life, as Ray’s fingers are fiddling with the wires on the canister. Len is looking between Ray and the door, to ensure nobody else has got past Mick and Sara.

“ _Raymond._ ” Len hisses, nervously. There are twenty three seconds left on the countdown.

“I can’t do it.” Ray sounds defeated, “There’s a safeguard on it, if I get too close to the trigger mechanism, it’ll go off instantly. If I could shrink, if I had more time… I don’t even know how big the blast radius is, if we can get out fast enough.”

He looks up at Len, eyes big, defeated and broken, “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

Len’s eyes are on the clock, seventeen seconds. 

He pulls Ray roughly to his feet. Ray’s squeak of surprise would be cute in any other situation. (Or maybe it wouldn’t, Len probably wouldn’t admit it to himself in any other situation). 

“Don’t you dare die thinking you failed me, Ray.” Len tells him, lightly resting his hands on Ray’s shoulders, “I don’t blame you.”

“Did you just call me Ray?” Ray asks, completely missing the point.

“We’ve got seconds to live, I’m not wasting time on another syllable.”

The clock on the bomb starts bleeping, a loud reminder of their impending doom. The pair of them look at the clock, the bright red numbers ticking down. 

10.

9.

They look back to each other, and really, it’s now or never. 

Len grabs Ray’s face and pulls him into a kiss. It’s not perfect, Ray is shocked and surprised. He freezes up for a split second, before wrapping his arms around Len’s shoulders, and kissing back. Really it’s a shame they’re about to die, because Len would love a repeat performance of this. 

Ray breaks the kiss first, rests his head against Len’s, “Is this just because I’m convenient, or…”

2.

“You are anything but convenient, boy scout.” Len’s face almost hurts, his smile is more genuine than it has been for a long time.

1.

Ray pulls Len tight to his chest, buries his head in Len’s neck as the countdown hits zero. 

…

And nothing happens.

Len and Ray stay clinging to each other for a long moment, before they both turn their head to the bomb. The countdown is flashing at zero. Ray pulls away first, drops to his knees to look at the bomb. Len follows suit. 

“What the hell is happening, Raymond?”

There’s a hissing noise from the bomb, and both ends of the glass canister fly off. The green gas spews from the holes, engulfing both Ray and Len. 

Len turns to look at Ray, jabs a finger in his direction, “This, this I blame you for.” 

\---x

He’s the most gorgeous man Ray thinks he’s ever seen, even passed out across a medical bed. 

Grey eyes, full pink mouth, and a closely shorn head. He’s tall, but not as tall as Ray – or as tall as Ray is now – and he’s broad and toned and Ray should probably stop staring. 

In fact, Ray should definitely stop staring. He should play it cool. Ray crosses his legs, looks off into the distance, focuses on the corner of the room. It’s not easy, Leonard is so much prettier than the corner of the medical bay. 

“Snart and Palmer think _what_?” The slightly scary blonde lady, Sara, asks.

“The gas has affected the area of the brain controlling their memories. Essentially they have lost all memory of their lives past the age of 16.” The Professor explains, “Our teammates believe they’re 16 years old.”

Leonard definitely doesn’t look 16. He’s way too hot, too pretty and buff, and gorgeous and nobody who is 16 looks that hot. 

But then, Ray doesn’t look 16 either. He’s grown into his gangly body, he’s broad and _muscled_. His hair is tamed, and his skin has cleared up. He’s pretty hot too. He’s still a complete awkward loser apparently, but he's HOT. Score one for Palmer!

“How do we fix it?” The big guy, Mick, asks. He's barely left Leonard's side. Ray’s trying to figure out their relationship. At first he was pegging him as his brother, but he’s not so sure. Mick has called him his partner a few times, but Ray isn’t sure if that’s romantic or business or some weird future cowboy slang. 

“My head hurts.” Ray grumbles. 

The other woman in the room, the one who isn’t scary, Kendra, approaches Ray’s bed, lays a hand on his arm, “It’s okay, sweetie.”

He likes to think he’s giving her a super cool, suave smile, but the way she shakes her head says otherwise. She squeezes his arm. 

“Well,” The Professor pipes up again, “Gideon’s scans indicate that the toxin has done no permanent damage, and should completely leave their systems.”

“When?” Mick snaps, “I’m just sayin’, when he wakes up, 16 year old Len Snart ain’t the kind of guy you want hangin’ around on your ship.”

“Because Mr Snart’s 40 year old self is such an upstanding gentleman.” The Professor grumbles, “There’s no way to know for sure, it could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.” 

“Great.” Mick huffs, “Can’t wait to do this again.”

\---x

“Hey, _Raymond._ ” Leonard’s arm wraps around Ray’s shoulder, “You wanna get up to some mischief?”

It's been six days since their brains got mangled, and it's showing no sign of passing soon.

Leonard – _Len, Raymond, I’m not in a retirement home yet_ – woke up the day after Ray. For the first day or so, he’d been nervous, a little skittish. He was only willing to spend time with Mick, because Mick was the only person he recognized. After a few days, Mick had thrown Len out of their shared quarters and suddenly Ray had become his new best friend. 

“What kind of mischief?” Ray asks, not nuzzling into Len’s warmth at all. 

They’ve been left alone on the ship, while the others are on a mission of sorts. Gideon, the super cool AI, has them under surveillance, and has them locked down on board. They're officially grounded to their quarters, so the only mischief they could possibly get up to is…

“Wanna take the ship for a spin?”

Or they could do that too. 

Len eyes are bright and excited and Ray is completely smitten.

“How? We’re locked down.”

“Yeah, and you’re a genius.” Len rubs at his shoulder, “You could probably hack your way through the security, or upgrade Gideon, or reset the systems?”

Len is so close, and Ray is so weak, and he’s _so hot_ , “Come on Raymond. Don’t you want to be my Han Solo?”

“Why don’t we just break into Captain Hunter’s office, and steal some of his booze?” 

Len pulls back from him, and Ray instantly regrets his answer, “Oh come on, we’re on a spaceship, and you just want to get wasted?” 

“I mean, he might have some spare keys or something in there to get this bird in the air.” Ray slaps the side of the ship, hoping he looks cool, like this was his plan all along, “Maybe some codes or some overrides. And booze.”

The grin that spreads across Len's face is predatory, and gorgeous and oh God, Ray wants to kiss him so much. 

“Cute _and_ smart.” 

And Ray can feel his face heating up, “I dunno.”

“I do.” Len grabs his arm, “Come on. Lets see what Hunter’s hiding from us.” 

As it happens, there's no key, or override codes but there is an old bottle of bourbon from the 1800's and some expensive looking glasses. 

Ray has poured them both drinks, Len's on ice, and is choking down the gross burning liquid while Len rifles through the drawers. There's a lot of paper, of maps, blueprints and things Ray would expect to be obsolete in the future. 

“It's official.” Len announces, dropping back into Hunter’s big chair, “Hunter sucks the fun out of everything, even being a Time Master. What's so exciting about the 60's?”

“Well where would you go?”

Len stretches his legs out, props them up on Hunter’s desk, “Vikings.”

“They'd kill you!” Ray’s voice comes out like the squeaky teen he thinks he is.

“Can die anywhere.” Len shrugs, “Just think seeing a real long ship, a real Viking battle would be cool. Also if I died there, I'd go to Valhalla. I die here, it's straight to hell.”

Ray feels like Len has just let him in on something important, something big, but he doesn't for the life of him know how to deal with it. 

“You'd fit right in in a Spartan training camp?” Ray offers instead, “Thieving is encouraged. You'd be their king.”

Len scrunches his nose, and Ray dies a little, “Too hot.”

“Maybe you should go back to the ice age?” 

“What can I steal there?” Len asks, a cheeky smile on his face, “What about you, where would you go?”

“Da Vinci. I'd love to see his inventions, and experiments.”

“I could steal the Mona Lisa.” Len muses.

“Or Einstein, or Edison!” Ray’s getting excited now, “Or Tesla!” 

“You're such a nerd.” Len announces, before downing his glass of bourbon in one. He’s coughing and spluttering as he slams the glass down.

“Look who’s talking.” Ray teases. 

Len throws an ice cube at his head. Ray laughs as he ducks under it. Len's smiling fondly as Ray looks back. Almost like he's appraising Ray, like he's seen something he really likes in him.

“You think we ever fooled around in the future?” Len asks, bluntly.

“What?” Ray curses his squeaky nervous voice. He's a fully grown man, with the mind of a teenager, he's not supposed to sound like he's going through puberty again.

“Me and you, fooled around, made out, had sex, blowjobs, handjobs, whatever.” Len says, easily, “I mean, the way you keep staring at me, makes me wonder if you’re this blatant with your crush when we’re older.”

Ray swallows hard, “I like to think I learn subtlety.”

He didn't realise he was being so obvious, thought nobody knew. It does sound more likely that he'd be walking around with heart eyes and tweeting lovebirds around his head. 

“I’m sorry.” Ray apologises, because it seems like the right thing to do.

“I'm not.” 

Of course he isn't. 

Len gets up from Hunter’s chair, stalks across to where Ray is sat. He puts his hands on the chair arms, and leans towards his face, “You're cute as hell, Raymond.”

The smile on Len's face is seductive, delicious, a little bit predatory, “You ever done this before?”

“A little. I mean, that I remember. I hope future me has, because being a 34 year old virgin would be kind of pathetic.” Ray lets out a nervous laugh, leans further back in the chair, a little intimidated by Len's closeness, “Though it'd prove a lot of people right about me.”

Len lifts a hand, cups Ray's cheek. His hand is cool, softer than Ray imagined. (And he has imagined. Len's hands are on his top ten favourite things about him, about number 4, after his eyes and mouth, and voice).

Len leans in, and presses his lips to Ray’s. Ray freezes, struggling to recall what he's supposed to do. The four times he's done this before have completely disappeared from his head. 

Len pulls back, strokes his face, “Relax, Raymond.”

“I'm relaxed.”

“If you stand up, you'll bring the chair with you.” Len runs his fingers through the back on Ray's hair, cradles his skull, “Relax.”

He leans in for the kiss again, Ray remembers to close his eyes this time. Their lips are so close, Ray can feel his breath.

“Snart, get off him!”

And then Mick’s screaming ruins everything. Len's on his feet in a second, arms in the air as if held in surrender.

“I wasn't doing anything.” He says. He winks exaggeratedly at Ray, “Yet.”

Mick storms into the room, Sara and Kendra close behind. Mick grabs Len’s upper arm, “I'm not doing this again, Snart.”

“You'll have to elaborate, because this is the first time I've done this, old man.”

“Cooper.” Mick says. It's all Greek to Ray, but Len's eyes light up with recognition.

“Definitely hotter.” Len says, with a grin, “Way more fun.”

Mick grips his arm tighter, and pulls him from the room, muttering under his breath the entire time. Ray watches as he leaves, can't help but huff a little.

“What just happened?” Ray asks, his voice sounding way more whiny than he wants it to.

Sara laughs, but it doesn't sound cruel. Kendra walks over to him and wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulls him to her, “It's probably nothing, sweetie.”

\---x

“You changed your mind about this then, Mick?” Len leans back on the bunk, legs spread. He thinks he looks sexy, Mick thinks he looks like an idiot. He's going to enjoy mocking his Snart with this later. 

“I swear to God, Snart, I will rip it off and choke you with it.” Mick threatens. 

“Kinky.”

Mick hates this Snart so much. He spent his teenage years being hit on by him, while still trying to figure out exactly who he was, what was wrong with him, why Snart was so obsessed with getting laid by anybody, when he didn't particularly want it from anyone. (Asexuality wasn't really a hot topic in the 80's).

He almost misses the timid teenager Len was when they first met. Damn his confidence building abilities. 

“Do you even like Palmer?”

“Does it matter?” Len shrugs, “He’s hot, and he’s got a massive crush on me, not like we weren’t both getting something out of this.”

"Nothing to do with him being a billionaire? Like Cooper?”

“He’s legally dead. _Technically_ I wouldn’t be able to access his assets. I checked.”

Mick shakes his head. Of course he did. 

It’s not as if Mick and Len hadn’t discussed the idea when they first boarded the Waverider, when it was just them against the world. Now though, against all odds, they care about their idiot crew, even Ray. (Maybe in Snart’s case, especially Ray.) 

“Why do you care so much, Mick? Unless you’re jealous…”

Right. 

It’s time to fight fire with fire, and shut the little runt up once and for all. 

“You’re right, Lenny.” Mick says. He contemplates a dramatic sigh, thinks it might be a little too much. 

He stalks across the room, to where Len is still leant back against the wall, smile set to seduce. As Mick gets closer, his smile drops slightly and he starts to look nervous. 

“What?”

“You’re spendin’ all this time with Palmer. I’m jealous. Your plan worked.” Mick stands between Len’s legs, places a hand against the wall either side of his head, “You’re mine, Lenny.”

Len’s smirk returns for a moment, and Mick wonders if he’s got himself in too deep, before remembering the most fun weapon in his arsenal. 

“You so much as look at anyone else, so much as breathe another man’s name and I’ll burn them to the ground. Them, their families, anyone they love.” Mick says, “You. I’d have to take you out too.” 

He hopes he’s got that fun blank, menacing look in his eyes, the one where people wonder if there’s anything behind them except anarchy. He almost misses the days when Len didn’t know there was more to him than fire and destruction, because this is _fun_.

The look of terror on Len’s face is priceless, Mick wonders if Gideon will be able to get him a shot of it later so he can taunt his Len forever with it. Maybe send a copy to Lisa, she’d get a kick out of it. Maybe even that Flash kid.

“Mick, stop screwing around.”

“Who’s screwing around? This is what you want, isn’t it, Lenny?” Mick asks, getting closer and closer to Len’s face. 

Len throws himself off to one side, under Mick’s arms and scrambles off the bed. Mick starts laughing as Len gets himself to his feet. 

“Not funny, Mick.” Len huffs. 

“Why didn’t I think of that when we were kids?” Mick asks, sitting on the bed, still laughing. 

“I hate you.”

“I know you do, kid.” 

Len throws the closest thing to him – a sock, because teenage boys are slobs – at Mick, and huffs from his spot on the floor. Mick throws it back.

“Look, Lenny, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. You, the real you, is ass over dick for Palmer and he doesn’t know.” Mick tells him, “I ain’t about to deal with your mopin’ ass when you get back to normal and you’ve screwed it up.” 

“What makes you think I’d screw it up?”

“You’re still Leonard Snart.” 

Len huffs, “Am I really that bad?”

Mick shakes his head, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

\---x

Mick finally lets Len out of his quarters again the following afternoon, claiming he needs to get some food. Teenage Len has a teenage appetite and the Waverider has replicators which ensure his appetite is satiated. (Len is pretty certain he was actually thrown out for driving Mick insane again, he was _trying_ ). 

He’s spent a lot of time thinking about what Mick said, about how his older self apparently has a massive thing for Ray. He supposes it makes sense. Ray is hot, really hot. He’s cute, funny and smart. He might be a total nerd, but Len apparently digs that. Both of them.

Len’s also spent a lot of time thinking about the fact future him is pining, and Ray hasn’t noticed. So maybe he should help him out a little? 

He has two plates, loaded with double Big Belly burgers and cheese fries and a bottle of Coke under his arm. (Gideon had been given orders not to provide Len and Ray with alcohol until they returned to normal, and not even Jax would help him override Gideon’s orders.) He has a couple of other things in his pockets to help set the mood, things Gideon would help him with.

He finds Ray moping in one of the cargo bays, fiddling with what looks like one of the gauntlets from his Atom suit. (And how cool is it that Len knows a real life Iron Man? Which is a film with that guy from Weird Science now!) 

Len puts the trays, and bottle down on one of the crates, and sits down next to Ray. He’s too close, their arms are brushing. 

“You sure that’s such a good idea? What if you’re trying something that you’ve tried and you end up blowing us all up?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Len.”

“Anytime.” 

He reaches behind him, and grabs the trays, putting them down in front of the pair of them. He grabs the bottle of Coke, and finds himself wondering why he didn’t bring glasses with him. 

“What’s this?” 

“Thought you might want something to eat.” Len says. 

He reaches into jacket pockets, and pulls out the candles he’s stashed in there, and Mick’s lighter. He’s going to catch hell for that one later, but he figures he’s got at least an hour before Mick notices it’s missing. Besides, he owes him for the crap he pulled in their room. 

Len flips the lighter and lights the candles.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, setting the mood.” Len shrugs, “Thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“Why are you setting the mood?” Ray asks. 

And for a genius, he really is stupid. He’s starting to see why Mick said future him spent more time insulting Ray than he did talking to him. 

“Because you have a massive crush on me, and I meant what I said when I told you that you were cute as hell.” 

How does future him find this so difficult? See cute person, see cute person is obsessed with you, tell cute person you think they’re cute, don’t spend months tormenting them because words are hard. Maybe he should write future him a note?

“So,” Len gestures to his tableau, “Romantic dinner.”

“And you’re not just doing this because future me is a billionaire? Or because Mick turned you down?” Ray asks, reaching for a cheese drenched fry, “Or because you think I’m easy because I’m crushing on you.”

“Raymond, nothing about you is easy.” Len says. He’s struck by the urge to rub his temples, or roll his eyes. 

Ray shrugs, shoves another few fries in his mouth. 

“These are so good.” He says, with his mouth full. 

He reaches for the Coke, opens the bottle and chugs straight from it. He doesn’t even bother looking to see if Len has brought glasses. He’s gross. Len loves it.

They eat together in silence, save for a few super gross burps, and Ray questioning if he’s going to ruin his insane body by eating all this. (Again with his mouth full). Len can’t finish his food, leaves the cheese to congeal on his cold fries, while he watches Ray shovelling the remains of his down. 

“Do you never eat?” Len asks, “Like, ever?”

Ray looks over at him, cheeks full of burger. He swallows his mouthful, “I eat. I just… forget sometimes, and my family don’t remind me, so...”

There’s more to Ray that he thought. He feels like he should offer up a little of his own tragic backstory, but doesn’t think his future self would be so keen on that one. He just nudges Ray. 

“I’ll remind you.” Len tells him, “We gotta look out for each other, right?”

Ray smiles, fond and sweet, “Thanks.” 

He finishes off his burger. Len sneaks the remains of his fries onto his tray when he’s not looking. He devours the remains of the food, cold cheese fries and all. 

“Thanks, Len. I needed that.” 

The grin on his face is so damn cute, as if Len had just given him a million bucks, not a shoddy dinner of replicated fast food. (Though Len supposes a million bucks doesn’t really mean that much when you’re a billionaire.)

“Future me is in love with you.” Len blurts out, nowhere near as cool as he’d planned it to be. The smile on Ray’s face, the pure joy over something as dumb as cheese fries taking him by surprise and making him say dumb shit. 

“Oh,” Ray says. The grin on his face widens, and Len didn’t know that was even possible. “Me? Not Mick?” 

“You, dumbass.”

“Are we… together?” Ray asks, “Is that why I can’t stop thinking about you?” 

Len shakes his head, “Nah, Mick thinks I have my head up my ass, and future you is the world’s dumbest smart guy.”

“Oh.”

“But when this shit wears off,” and Len doesn’t miss the way Ray flinches when he cusses, “Our future selves will remember this and we can skip straight to the good part.” 

It takes Ray a moment, but he finally seems to get what Len is getting at, “Oh!” 

“Maybe we could even give our future selves some of the good parts to remember?” Len suggests, voice dropping to a more seductive timbre, a low drawl. Len likes this. He doesn’t know where it’s come from, but this is sexy. He’s going to use this more. 

“Is that such a good idea?”

“It was a good idea earlier.”

“I freaked out earlier.” Ray points out. 

“You didn’t freak out when it was a matter of life or death.” Len points out, and wait, life or death? 

The bomb. There was a bomb. A giant bomb that Ray couldn’t defuse. There was a countdown, and there was a kiss. Len kissed him, and Ray kissed back, and the bomb didn’t go off. Len called him Ray. They held each other. 

Len is 43. Ray is 34. Ray was a boy scout. Ray was an Eagle scout. He took a beating for Mick. He nearly dies at least once a month. 

_Fuck._

“There was a bomb.” Ray says.

“Yes, Raymond, I’m remembering that.”

Ray’s reeling off everything that happened, and Len’s mind is racing. He’s not hearing anything, he’s just hearing Ray’s insistent buzzing in his ear. 

“You kissed me.” 

And of course that’s when Len tunes back in.

Ray’s face is lighting up, and as the fog of… whatever lifts from their brains, Len finds himself kind of wanting to punch his goddamn smile. 

In the mouth.

With his mouth.

_Shit._

“Yes.” 

“And you smiled at me, Snart. You smiled at me.”

Now his brain is getting back to normal, his head is clearing and everything is falling back into place, Len wants to run. He’s said too much. Young him was too honest, too open, it got him hurt. He and Ray need to forget this happened. 

“Did you mean it? Young you, about… you.” Ray asks, “You love me?”

Ray sounds so hopeful, like this is something he’s been waiting for. Like he saw straight through Len’s asshole attitude towards him, and saw a frightened kid with a crush who didn’t know how to deal with human feeling.

What good is it lying to Ray now? Unless Rip has some amnesia serum lying around, and will force it on everyone – oh God, did he really try to fuck Mick again? – Len’s secret is out. 

“My younger self skipped a few steps.” He admits, “But I don’t dislike you.” 

Ray grins, “I’ll take it.”

He gets to his feet, holds out a hand for Len. 

“What are you doing?” Len asks. 

“Well, you just bought me dinner.” Ray replies, with a shrug, “I figured you might want a little dessert.” 

Len just glares up at him, “Has that line _ever_ worked?”

“I’m starting to think no.” 

“Correct.” 

Len gets to his feet, and oh God, his body is going to pay for all the time young him insisted on sitting on floors. 

“For the record, anything I do to you or with you today is happening in spite of that comment.” Len tells him, “You are _never_ claiming that worked.”

Ray smiles at him, and Len knows he’s made the right choice, “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. The opening scene was inspired by Sarah and Chuck's first real kiss in Chuck.
> 
> Come squee with me on [Tumblr ](http://damnstevens.tumblr.com).


End file.
